


Tease

by Ladytalon



Category: Stargate: SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-09
Updated: 2010-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-10 00:52:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladytalon/pseuds/Ladytalon





	Tease

  
"Stay still," she scolds, awarding him a sharp slap that echoes in the cavernous chamber of the throne room. If she were anyone else, she'd most certainly be dead by now.

Of course if she _were_ anyone else, she wouldn't have come within one hundred paces before being target practice for his Jaffa.

Baal schools his expression to calm and wills the rest of his body to obey as her hands begin moving over him once more, but keeping himself from reacting to her ministrations is nearly as hard as the part of his body that's currently being tended to.

His breath hisses through his teeth as she reaches into a hip pocket and withdraws something that makes his stomach clench with anticipatory dread. "My Queen, not that," he begs half-heartedly, knowing that she'll interpret his tone as sullen and react accordingly.

Sam looks up at him, shaking her hair out of her face. "Let me guess – you thought you'd just get to bend me over the side of the dais and take your sweet time doing it?"

He barely conceals a twitch of surprised guilt. "Of course not."

"Hmm." Her hands glide up past his knees and along the inside of his thighs, and she flicks her eyes up to his as she slides the cock ring up his stiffened phallus. "Who says you get to be in control all the time?" she asks thoughtfully, looking back down to admire her handiwork. Sam drags her nails up his shaft lightly before curling her fingers around the base, coaxing him to fullness with the fingertips of her other hand.

Baal digs his nails into the lacquered armrests of his throne as Sam leans forward, lips pursed to blow a stream of cool air on the tip of his cock. She glances up at him again and his host's murmurs of excited impatience push against his awareness. _Be **silent**_, he hisses. His hips quiver as Sam's tongue flicks over his glans, catching the beaded droplets of precome she's teased from him. "Samantha."

Sam just shakes her head in response, the evil glint in her eyes dashing his hopes that he'll escape from this with dignity intact. She wraps her lips around his swollen cock and sucks lightly, sliding her tongue over skin stretched taut by that damnable ring. Not for the first time, Baal wishes she favored a more straight-forward form of torture instead of…this.

She teases him with kisses and licks, occasionally taking him in hand and stroking roughly until he can feel his orgasm building, only to deprive him of sensation before he can achieve climax. The last shred of pride is stripped away when he feels her fingers shifting the ring teasingly, and it's only when he's begun to beg that she slides it off and fondles him in earnest. Baal shoves up into her hand, lost to everything but the feel of her fingers clasped around his aching member and the overwhelming need for release. Forcing his eyes open, Baal watches as Sam licks her lips and opens her mouth, and the sight pushes him over the edge. He comes with a hoarse groan, semen splattering over her tongue and sliding down her chin as she draws the last shudders from him.

Baal falls back against the padded leather, breathing hard and wondering yet again what took him so long to make Samantha Carter his queen. "You, my love, are the purest form of evil in existence."

Sam draws the back of her hand over her mouth, grinning. "Flattery will get you everywhere."


End file.
